


Loose Lips Sink Ships

by anon-j-anon (Anon)



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:59:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anon/pseuds/anon-j-anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Captain and Commander don't know this (she suspects they'd freak out if they did), but Yeoman Rand knows more about their sex life than any other person on the Enterprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loose Lips Sink Ships

The Captain and Commander don’t know this (she suspects that they’d freak out if they did), but Yeoman Rand knows more about their sex life than any other person the _Enterprise_.

No, she is not a stalker. There was that one time she had a _huge_ crush on this one boy, but she was thirteen. Thirteen is an awkward age. Janice Rand likes to think she’s grown up since then (her face has cleared, she doesn’t have braces, she’s slimmed down, thank you very much).

It’s all in the sheets.

Well, not always the sheets. Sometimes against the bulkheads. Or on the desk. There was that stain on the floor that took forever to get out. Then the time that the Captain filed a maintenance request because the door of his fresher had long, interesting crack in it.

The Captain and Commander don’t know this (actually, the Commander probably knows more than he lets on. He gave her the nicest present for her birthday, if that’s an indication of anything), but Yeoman Rand takes her responsibilities as the Captain’s yeoman very seriously.

You could make a pretty pile of credits on the nets, selling James T. Kirk’s ripped command shirts (not that she has). People like collecting memorabilia, and the Captain’s a celebrity. The going price for a piece of the Commander is even higher. Yesterday, she saw a stylus allegedly touched by the Commander sold on net-auction for a ridiculous rate.

To say nothing of some more, er, _private_ bits of clothing.

Not that she looked that up on the nets either. She takes her responsibilities very seriously.

All of them, all the yeo-people (like mer-people. Or is it mer-folk?), guard the privacy of the crew jealously, more or less. Yes, there are gossip mills. Yes, everyone likes to hear juicy tidbits as much as much as the next person. But when it comes to the core command, lips are sealed.

They do say that “loose lips sink ships.”

But the things she _knows_!

Sometimes she’s bursting with the urge to tell someone these secrets. There are glyphs she reads in the sheets that tell such interesting (and _dirty_ , in the best sense of the word) stories. No, there’s little chance that it’s just her overactive and graphic imagination. Well, maybe the tiniest bit of exaggeration. That never did anyone any harm.

It’s really more simple than you think, deciphering the marks on the sheets (and the floor, and the desk, and the door). The Commander’s blood is green. His, er, other fluids aren’t exactly human in their color and consistency. The Captain’s blood is red. Janice, being human and a female, thinks she’s memorized the scent and sight of her Captain’s shades of white now.

She can’t help it—she’s straight and it’s erotic and heady. On top of that, her body _knows_ that’s some great DNA right there. It’s the stuff that alpha males are made of, and boy is her Captain an alpha. To say nothing of the Commander.

Did she mention that sperm banks would kill to have a sample of James T. Kirk’s genetic material?

No, she’s not going to sell it (what kind of creep would _do_ that?!). If she doesn’t tell the crew (or the nets!) about all the delicious things she knows, she’s not going to mess up on the bigger things.

Besides, can you imagine fifty little versions of the Captain running around everywhere? Janice Rand admittedly hasn’t gotten over her crush on the Captain (he’s still hot and _quite_ fit), but even she’s not besotted enough to want his child. The universe might not survive the event.

And she’s not going to try and steal the Captain from the Commander. Yeoman Rand takes her responsibilities very seriously. There’s also the fact even if she did successfully seduce the Captain away from his Vulcan, that she might not survive long enough to enjoy the benefits.

Why does it always have to be the cute ones that’re gay? It’s so monumentally unfair.

She heaves a dramatic internal sigh. Then smiles to herself.

Because they’re so devastatingly romantic together, when they think no one’s looking. Just for that, she’ll keep all their secrets and never breathe a word about the loads upon loads of dirty laundry.

Did she say all? Better change that to most. There might’ve been a few times... that one incident... she swore the smear pattern on the wall looked like an image of Madonna (or maybe it was Marilyn Monroe)... and wouldn’t _that_ make breaking news on the nets...

She’ll keep most of their secrets. The really important ones. Janice Rand takes her job very seriously.

But she really knows how to read those sheets.

The first time she cleaned the quarters after their torrid and terribly tempestuous tryst (yes, she got that off the summary of one of her favorite romance novels), she kind of stood there in front of the bed, staring at the mess, fixated by the sight. Blankets rumpled, sheets torn(?), streaks and splotches painted in unfamiliar colors on a white canvas.

Now, there had been rumors. But the Captain and Commander were surprisingly careful about their privacy, so while people gossiped about how they were attracted to each other, everyone was all over the place when it came to them sleeping together. There were convincing arguments for both sides.

When she finally realized (it didn’t take that long) exactly _what_ she it was she was looking at, her jaw dropped. Heat just poured off her cheeks. Her mind quickly identified the scents lingering in the air—sweat, the familiar smell of human sex, and this exotic spicy-sweet-salt-bitter _alien_ odor other that she could only assume belonged to the Commander. The sheets were stiff with dried, er, paint.

Calligraphy. That’s what it was. They wrote their love on replicated white cotton in hard and soft brush strokes.

And Janice Rand immediately set about learning how to read it (oh don’t judge. Everyone has a little bit of voyeur in them).

It was exhilarating, trying to reconstruct exactly what happened. She felt like some sort of code-breaker, or a secret agent who’d found cold hard proof of a lethal conspiracy. That imagination of hers ran away and in the sheets she saw her Captain and Commander getting it on a thousand different ways.

Ohmygod it was so hot.

She held off on the urge to squeal, thinking about what everyone would say when she finally told them the juicy details of everything she saw on that canvas... and snapped out of it. She’s a crewmember of the _Enterprise_ , a woman serving in Starfleet. Some people look at her sideways and think she’s a total ditz (it’s fun to be an airhead. Seriously, try it sometime), but when push comes to shove, Yeoman Rand takes her responsibilities very seriously.

Reasons she won’t tell anyone, even if she _really_ wants to:

1\. It’s unprofessional. Just because she’s a blonde and just because she’s not the smartest person on the ship doesn’t mean she’s clueless or a 100% gossip. She’s a 79% gossip and she likes her job. It’s not for everyone, that’s for sure, but Janice Rand loves being a yeoman.

2\. She’s not mean. Kissing and telling is a big no-no in her books. There was this one idiot boyfriend (douchebag) back at the Academy who was such a complete _douchebag_ (spell it out, Janice: d-o-u-c-h-e-b-a-g), she should’ve listened to her friends and never slept with him. Ugh. Talk about humiliating. Whatever. She’s in space now.

3\. They never sat down and wrote out the terms of a contract, but Janice Rand recognizes trust when she sees it. Her Captain and Commander trust her. They inspire absolute loyalty from all the crew, and she’s no exception.

4\. The Yeo-folk Department have their own rules. Rule number one: Loose lips sink ships. She’s not exactly sure where that phrase came from, but it makes complete sense to her. Janice doesn’t know much about tactics, but she knows that war and romance don’t really mix except in tragic ways. And she _hates_ sad endings—they might be “in the future” but her mascara (she admits she buys the cheap kind) still runs black when she cries. It’s messy and gross and Janice Rand _hates_ messy grossness.

5\. It’s kind of exciting to be the only one in on their secret. And they don’t even know it. Well, they probably do. But maybe they don’t. Anyway, she feels like a conspirator, or someone working behind the scenes.

 

On days she’s thinking thinky thoughts, she has to admit that she just wants them to be happy. The Captain and the Commander aren’t her friends, but it’s so clear to everyone that they are so in love with each other. They’re Starfleet commanding officers and they are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, but... she wants to protect them.

And she does, in her own way. God only knows the daily stresses the two face on the bridge and on away missions. After a long and strenuous day, no one wants to come back to dilapidated quarters or rooms made of hard corners, but Constitution Class starships aren’t exactly luxury liners. They’re designed for war and science, which means quarters are mostly bare. There aren’t a lot of what she likes to call soft spaces.

There aren’t a lot of sex spaces either. Everyone jokes about the turbolift, but no one’s ever actually done it. Not even her Captain, because despite his reputation for being daring and a total playboy (which she seriously thinks is exaggerated), he’s professional.

Jeffries tubes are nice in theory, but really kind of uncomfortable. Besides, not everyone is turned on being stuck in a giant metal pipe. She isn’t—they’re all metallicky and depending where you are, super cold or unnervingly hot. And they’re hard, being metal and all. Janice Rand likes soft spaces.

The Observation Deck is a matter of personal taste too. It’s kind of romantic in a “let’s sleep under the stars” kind of way, but the thought of doing it so close to the black of space freaks some people out, like Yeoman Paliulionis. He’s not the only one. Janice Rand knows from personal experience (personal, painfully-embarrassing-after-the-fact-for-both-sides experience) that you can’t really get in the mood when you’re fighting electric terror.

Then there are the nooks and crannies around the ship that everyone knows about. Weirdly enough, people like to do it a lot in the medical storage rooms. Dr. McCoy hasn’t caught on yet (or maybe he has, and he’s just willfully ignoring it. Kind of like how he winces whenever the Captain and Commander are making eyes at each other. The three of them are adorable), but there’s one spot in the fourth aisle near dermal regenerator refills that’s particularly convenient for a quick one between shifts.

Nook or no, it’s not the same as having softness and sexiness in the comfort of your own space.

The Captain and the Commander don’t know it, but they need softness in their lives. The sexiness—well, she thinks they’ve both got it in spades and don’t need any help from her. They need softness and privacy, a little space where they can breathe. Relax. Have agonizingly ( _agonizingly_ , she imagines) slow sex.

Back at Starfleet when they were training for their duties, her commanding officers didn’t really talk much about the necessity of livable spaces. But she finds that it’s important on a starship, especially a ship like the _Enterprise_ , or else you go insane. There are stretches of time when they’re just flying and there’s nothing to do, which are only replaced by moments of extreme action (Janice has gotten better at managing her tendency to freak out when red-alert goes off. She’s not exactly command material).

People (and by that she means everyone) are people. When things around them are unstable, they reach out to build their own permanents. In Janice’s experience (maybe she should write a paper on this... maybe after she files her nails), people on starships always do it by staking their quarters out as their home away from home.

Even her Commander, who’ll never be able to go back home and even her Captain, who Janice thinks never really had a home to begin with, do this. They also happen to do this in a stunted, totally boyish (in other words, inadequate) kind of way. The Commander decorates his quarters with weird tapestries and creepy Vulcan stone figurines. Janice had dolls and stuffed animals when she was a girl, but she’s pretty sure this is different. And the Captain? The Captain just lets all the gifts from diplomatic missions pile up around his quarters.

Neither of them are, in Yeoman Rand’s professional opinion, very good at making their homes soft and comfortable. So Janice gives them a hand. Well, she gives the Captain a hand. She thinks the Commander would bite her hand off if she tried to redecorate.

Janice attacks this project with all the enthusiasm she can muster (which happens to be a lot, by the way). She spends some of her free time looking around on the nets for the latest trends in home decor. Did you know that pink is _very_ in right now? There are some adorable spaces, complete with the cutest accessories!

No, she does not cover the Captain’s room in pink pillows. She might be blonde, but she’s not tasteless. She took a class in interior design, thank you very much. Yeoman Rand knows that the Captain likes to use part of his room as an office space for meeting with his senior staff. No matter how trendy it is, pink is definitely not on her list for the Captain’s quarters.

Purples, on the other hand...

Kidding!

Okay, there was a reason why she asked the Captain to fill out a survey about his favorite colors. It wasn’t just to satisfy her curiosity.

No, she’s not telling. But his second favorite color is green, if anyone wants to read anything into that.

Then she remembered that people don’t necessarily want to be surrounded by their favorite color (their second favorite color is a different matter entirely). So she had to give the Captain another datapad to fill out, asking him what emotions he associates with which colors.

The Captain looked at her really weirdly when he saw what she gave him. She thinks that he thought Dr. McCoy put her up to it, but he filled it out anyway without giving it much more thought. She made the mistake of giving the same survey to the Commander, who immediately stiffened and refused. That was when she figured out she shouldn’t start a project to remodel his room.

Janice also kicked herself afterward for forgetting about the whole Vulcan, no emotions thing. That was kind of tactless. Even if it made her more curious about how he would have responded.

She didn’t actually have the courage to apologize to his face, so she kind of mentioned it to Lt. Uhura instead, and hoped the message got passed along. She thinks it did.

Anywho, Yeoman Rand began sneaking some softness (and just plain organization) into the Captain’s room. It started out small. She replaced his standard issue blanket with a thick hypoallergenic comforter and cotton, instead of regulated polyester, sheets. She added a plush neutral rug under his office chair. Then put a sleek container on his desk for all the styluses she found lying around, and figured that some shelves for his neverending stack of datapads might help.

Eventually, Janice gathered the confidence to ask the Captain if she could sort through the diplomatic gifts. He told her to have a ball, so she did. Admittedly it wasn’t as exciting as sorting through her accessories and organizing her wardrobe, but it was fun.

Most of the objects she arranged in various parts of the Captain’s office space. On the nets, she found the perfect stand that would show off the Captain’s growing collection of ornamental weapons. For other bits and bobs (seriously, these aliens gave the _weirdest_ gifts sometimes), she commissioned the engineers to make a tall display case from the various pieces of glass and metal she assumed they had lying around. Then a few of the bulky security guys installed it in the captain’s room (they got kind of annoyed at the number of times she had them move it to different spots. Placement is important in interior design).

The end result was stunning, if she did say so herself. The stuff on display was kind of eclectic and clashed, but those were the materials she had to work with. It looked like it could almost be a museum display. The whole thing definitely gave that part of the Captain’s room a much more official and diplomatic tone. But it still looked quirky, and she thought it reflected his personality (not that the Captain is quirky. Well, he kind of is... sort of. He’s not what you’d call normal, that’s for sure). The Captain was impressed.

She thinks the Commander was too, but not impressed enough to let her have free reign over his room.

After that project, Yeoman Rand moved on to bigger and better things. Sometimes, she messed up. Well technically, it was just one really big mess up. Janice kind of found all the captain’s commendations and medals and decided to frame them and hang them on his office wall. He took it down and got mad at her for it, though she’s still not exactly sure why. Her Captain isn’t modest—he wouldn’t be where he is if he were. Maybe she overstepped some lines about privacy?

But he didn’t seem to mind when she replaced the Starfleet soap with something that had a hint of musky sandalwood.

Then again, the Captain didn’t seem to notice any changes there. But the Commander did, big time. He’s got an eye for detail. She was there in the Captain’s quarters to see it (no she didn’t _really_ spread the story about it). The Commander entered the room talking about one ship function or another while the Captain, who was sitting in his chair, was looking over some kind of diagnostics reports (just because she files them, doesn’t mean she pays attention to what all these reports are about). The Captain motioned him to take a closer look at a graph or a table, she’s not sure. The point is, the Commander was close enough to the Captain that when the Captain stood up, the Commander got a good whiff of him.

Janice would say the scent went straight to the Commanders, er, head.

Yeoman Rand took that last report off the Captain’s hands (so that they could do other things, like—but she’s not telling. Not that they really did anything in front of her, but Janice can imagine _plenty_ ), stepped out of the room, and filed everything away with her very professional and meticulous attention to detail.

Moving on to other ways Yeoman Rand takes her responsibilities seriously...

Well, the Captain would complain about tension in his shoulders. Rumors have it that the Commander gives absolutely _killer_ massages, but no one knows. Anyway, Yeoman Rand went through five types of mattresses before the Commander finally told her (she didn’t even know he was aware of this, her other, other, other—count the others—pet project) that the Captain prefers firmer mattresses and instead of constantly switching, it would be more efficient to obtain a mattress that he is able to adjust the rigidity.

Janice kind of stared before she snapped out of it and said she’d take care of it.

The Commander told her he already had.

She took a little offense to that, because it was _her_ job and responsibility, but Yeoman Rand just smiled and nodded. Later, she told herself that the Commander did it because he was tired of giving shoulder rubs to the Captain, not because he thought she was a terrible yeoman.

But what if he did? What if the Captain didn’t actually like any of the additions she’d made?

What if he was just too nice to say anything about it?

She’s not the smartest person on the ship and sometimes she acts like a ditz, but Janice Rand really loves her job. She loves gossiping with her friends and being blonde, but she really does take her responsibilities seriously.

It’s not fair that the Commander can do it better because he’s smarter and closer to the Captain that she’ll ever be. After that incident, Yeoman Rand ended up talking to a bunch of her fellow yeo-people, asking them if they thought she was doing a good job.

They all said yes.

It sort of helped, but not really. She actually really wanted to hear the Captain say it. She had no idea how to ask him a question like that.

“Captain, am I good at my job?”

Okay, that sounded kind of retarded.

“Captain, do you think my behavior is professional?”

Would it still be professional behavior if she asked him something like that? Ugh. Janice does not like these kinds of thoughts. It’s not good for her complexion. Stress makes her break out (it’s so unfair. Lt. Uhura’s _always_ stressed out, handling all those emergency transmissions and everything for the Captain, but she’s _always_ gorgeous on the bridge).

“Captain, are you okay with everything I’ve changed?”

He probably hasn’t even noticed. Besides the giant display, he’s never said anything about the other stuff. Janice sort of deflated, then decided to go shoe shopping on the nets. They had some cute styles this season. Too bad none of them look good with a bright red Starfleet uniform.

Nothing looks good with the Starfleet uniforms. Janice, being a blonde (with very pale skin to boot) usually ends up looking washed out wearing such a hideously intense color. It’s okay, though. The _Enterprise_ is a starship, built for military and science, not fashion. No one looks good in the uniforms. Except Lt. Uhura with her to-die-for skin and hair and _where_ does she buy her earrings?

Great. Janice Rand is not only bad at her job, but the Commander hates her and she’s ugly. At least she hasn’t gained any weight. Has she?

The next few shifts, Yeoman Rand was kind of quiet around the Captain, then she’d overcompensate by being more bubbly about everything than usual. Yes, even for her.

After the fourth day full of spectacular dumb blonde moments and making the bridge staff stare at her, she treated herself to long hot water shower. She snuggled into her favorite oversized sweatshirt and settled on the floor to paint her toenails.

Well, she didn’t join Starfleet to hide in the shadows. Sometimes you just have to face your fears (Janice Rand was telling this to her little pinky toe. Pink nail polish for pink little pinky toes. She giggled).

The next shift when she handed her captain the stack of datapads (he looked much more well rested), she asked out of the blue.

“Captain, do you think I’m a good yeoman?”

The Captain looked at her, a little startled. Then it almost looked like something clicked in his mind. She tried to read the expression on his face and the thoughts behind his eyes, but she couldn’t. Janice thinks that only the Commander and Dr. McCoy can really do that.

At least she can read the sheets. That’s one secret she has, one that she really will never tell. She wiggled her toes in her boots.

“Um, yes. I don’t have any complaints,” he replied. “Why? Is there something going on?”

“Oh, no. I was just curious.”

Yeoman Rand straightened while Janice heaved a huge sigh of relief.

She smiled at him sunnily and took the datapad he finished.

The Captain kept giving her worried looks while he went through the stack. After he handed her the final datapad, he motioned her to stay.

“You’re sure everything’s okay?”

“Of course, Captain,” she replied, flipping her hair when actually, she felt like dancing through the ship’s corridors. Her Captain was such a thoughtful person. “Everything’s fine. Oh, and Dr. McCoy reminded me to remind you that you need to have your immunizations updated.”

He nodded. Janice shifted kind of uncomfortably, since his gaze was intense and she felt like he was reading her. It was a good thing the Commander could handle it.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to thank you. Spock told me it was your idea to change my mattress to something that doesn’t kill my shoulders.”

She jerked her head and knew she was staring at the Captain in disbelief.

“But—the Commander was the one—I didn’t—”

The Commander stepped up behind the Captain like he popped out of thin air. The Commander can be quick and quiet in a way that Janice isn’t completely okay with. Even if she can read the sheets, she finds that she can’t read either of her commanding officers.

“While it is true that I suggested the final solution to the problem you, Yeoman Rand, originally brought it to our attention and attempted to remedy the situation.”

Janice looked at the Captain, who nodded.

It’s like the Commander can read minds. This isn’t the first time he’s taken words and thoughts straight out of people’s mouths—she’s been at a couple diplomatic functions making official records of everything and he’s done it to kings of entire planets. In all honesty, it’s unnerving (Janice Rand is 100% certain that the Commander knows this and does it just to scare people. Vulcan humor must be strange) and she still hasn’t gotten used to it.

“However, I request that in the future if you have any further insights, that you bring it to my or the Captain’s attention so that an acceptable resolution might be found in a timely and efficient manner.”

“Of course, sir.”

The Captain gave the Commander a look. The Commander looked back with a slight raise of his eyebrow, then nodded.

Vulcans aren’t telepaths, are they? At least, that’s what she thought, but she didn’t exactly pass her xenobiology or xenocultures classes with flying colors. It wasn’t completely her fault that the class was being taught by a cute young post-doc officer. Janice sat in the second row, doodling in her datapads and ogling him dreamily.

The Captain and Commander stopped whatever it was they were doing looked back at her.

Right, staying at attention. Her Captain thinks Yeoman Rand is doing a good job (she wiggles her toes). And Janice Rand isn’t a complete airhead—she recognizes that the Commander thinks she’s doing a good job too, even if he puts caveats on all his compliments. It’s kind of cute, when he’s not saying it to her. The Captain, for example, gets a lot of backhanded compliments from the Commander.

“All right, that’s all you have for me, Yeoman?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Great.”

And that’s the end of it.

Yeoman Rand almost skipped to the turbolift. Everything is back to normal again.

No, everything is better than normal. Yeoman Rand _loves_ her job, takes _all_ her responsibilities very seriously, and has pink toenails hidden under the hideous Starfleet boots. Pink is a good color on her.

She can’t wait to tell everyone that the Captain thinks she’s the best yeo-person he’s ever had on his crew (never mind that she’s the only yeo-person he’s had since he took command). Is that enough for him to leave the Commander?

Joking!

Let a girl dream, will you? He’s still cute, he’s really nice and so thoughtful. Why do all the good ones have to be gay? It’s so unfair.

Before she exits the turbolift to go about her duties in a completely professional manner, she wonders what she’ll read in the sheets tonight. Maybe... if she just told one person... it’s hard to keep the best secret in the world all by yourself when everyone knows secrets are meant to be shared...

No. She doesn’t know where the phrase comes from, but she’ll swear on her life that loose lips sink ships. Yeoman Rand is responsible for the comfort, privacy and soft spaces of the Captain and the Commander. They do things she could never pull off in a million years and if all the stories she reads on the nets are true (they might not. You can never know with the nets), they’ve saved the galaxy, the Federation and the _Enterprise_ (and her life!) a thousand times over.

Janice Rand is one of the esteemed yeo-folk serving aboard the _Enterprise_ , a woman enlisted in Starfleet. There are times when the Captain looks at her sideways and a lot of the time, she acts like a total ditz. But when push comes to shove, Yeoman Rand takes her responsibilities very seriously.

Years later, when (if. When. Or if. Maybe when) she _finally_ spills the beans and gives a tell-all interview on G!Hollywood, she’ll say it was because they were so darned cute together.

Well, they _are_.


End file.
